A Nightingale's Melody
by EmeptY
Summary: After visiting Austria's house, Romano hears the song of a nightingale... But what about the superstition that follows the bird's melody? Contains Chibi!Romano and Pirate!Spain
1. Chapter 1

I have always loved it when we would go to visit Austria's house.

Spain usually said he had to deal with some marital issues, but I think it was just an excuse so we could go see Italy. They, being mostly Austria, would always kick my brother and I out into the backyard, saying something along the lines of 'this matter does not concern little kids like yourselves. Go play outside until you are called back in.'

Bastard.

Though I really liked the opportunity to play with my brother in such a carefree manner.

However, today was not the case, as I was visiting Austria of my own accord. That idiot Spain was off pirating, or whatever the hell it is he does when he leaves me home alone for weeks on end. And so, he said it was ok if I got lonely to go visit Austria and my brother. I mean bored. I was bored so I decided to play with Italy.

As the day drew to a close, Italy and I sat on the small grassy hill in Austria's backyard overlooking the forest beyond the gate. We had gotten bored of kicking the small football around and decided to take a short break. My brother was rambling on about one thing or another when the most divine song I had ever had the privilege of listening to caught my ear. A melody like no other, that wrapped my body in heavenly wrath, sweetly kissing me on the forehead, filling me with bliss. Such a tone surely was the embodiment of an angel, as I had never heard a bird sing a song so other-worldly.

My mouth was wide open as I stared in wonder at the vast collection of trees, trying to find the source of the rhythm. But it was of no use because just as I was sure I found it, Austria call us back in. My brother, being a 'good little child' dragged me with him, despite my obvious resistance.

'You probably heard a nightingale,' was Austria's swift response when he overheard me describe the sound to Italy, who apparently didn't any bird sounds at all.

'A nightingale?' I questioned, never hearing the word before.

'It's a bird,' Austria responded without even batting an eye. His stupid tone made it sound as if anyone should know what a ''nightingale'' was. How the hell could my idiot brother stand this guy?

Not to be outdone, I puffed, 'well what the hell is so special about this dumb bird?'

Again, he didn't even bat an eyelash when he spoke to me as if I was thin air, 'You heard it for yourself, didn't you?''

I could tell there was more to the story, but I was fed up with questioning the egocentric bastard.  
And with that, I made it my mission to see what else there was to learn about this ''nightingale''. That night, I went through Spain's study which contained a relatively small collection of assorted books. The room was messy before, but my hunt for knowledge only add to the pile of work I knew I wasn't going to do.

After going through various books on seamanship, atlases, weaponry, torture methods, and encyclopedias, I finally found a small book about superstitions. As I thumbed through the different sections of the poorly bound book, I came across the bold letters that read ''Aves''. From what my Spanish skills could decipher, the chapter was dedicated to superstitions regarding birds. Upon further mental translating, I got the gist of the short, little paragraph about ''ruiseñor'' or ''nightingale''. From what I gathered, hearing the bird's song was the foreshadowing of some Spanish word ''fallecimiento''. My brain was far too exhausted to comprehend what it translated to as I caught myself dozing off in the messy study and pile of books. My head was filled with new found information about the mysterious bird. Though half of it, I couldn't translate, I still felt as though I understood the important parts. Eyelids heavy, I allowed myself to curl up on the cold and dusty floor as I lack the energy and willpower to drag myself to my bed upstairs.

-

My growling stomach woke me up the following morning and I was surprised to learn that I slept for what felt like most of the night in my rightful bed, not downstairs in the unkempt room that was Spain's study.

But who would go through the trouble of bringing me upstairs?

When the answer hit me, I bolted down the staircase like only an Italian could. I was downstairs in less than 0.2 seconds, where the scent of wondrous Spanish cooking aroused my senses. Allowing my nose to serve as a guide, I was led into the kitchen where a tall Spanish man stood, slaving over a hot stove, cooking what looked like breakfast.

I wanted my presence to remain unnoticed, but failed in the process thanks to the stupid, creaky flooring.

Ears as sharp as ever, Spain promptly turned around, greeting me with a his signature idiotic smile.

'Ah, Romano, I'm glad to see you're awake. You know, I was surprised to find you sleeping on the floor of my study last night. I thought you knew better than to sleep in strange places...'

His scolding continued, but I couldn't be bothered by it. Instead I was focused upon the numerous bandages covering his body.

'What the hell happened to you? You look like a mummy.' I interrupted his senseless nagging.

'This?' he asked, pointing to the bandages on his face, completely forgetting the rant he was going on a moment ago, 'this is nothing, really Romano. You don't have to worry.'

'Who would worry about you, bastard?' I huffed, taking my usual seat at the dining table, 'now feed me.'

The Spaniard let out a soft sigh, turning back to his cooking.

'I finally come home to see you and you're still as demanding as ever,' Spain remarked, but I brushed it off, as my mind had drifted to a new topic.

'Hey Spain,' I began, tone slightly softer than before, 'what does ''fallecimiento'' mean?'

'Where is this coming from?' he asked, remaining focused on the meal he almost completed preparing.

'N-nowhere!' I defended, like someone was attacking me, though no one was. 'I just...want to know, so tell me.'

Spain chuckled, picking up the ready meals and placing one in front me and one in front of his seat.

'Death.'

'Huh?'

'Fallecimiento means death, Romano. Any other questions?'

I felt a chill run down my spine. 'No...' was my weak reply, but Spain didn't seem to notice my nervous tone. I mindless eyed the grub before me, blood running cold.

'I'm not hungry,' I declared, pushing the plate away and hopping out of my seat.

Ignoring the Spaniard calling my name, I ran as fast as my little legs would take me back to Spain's study.


	2. Chapter 2

_For many centuries, hearing the nightingale's song has been an omen or a foreshadowing of death. Typically brought on by sudden illness and usually thought to be someone of close relation to the listener, a family relative or a close family friend..._

I throw the book down, causing dust to come out from between the pages. I couldn't get myself to translate another word of the superstitious book. My body felt light as I clenched my apron.

Was the nightingale warning of Italy's death?

But I was with Italy yesterday and he was completely fine. Stupid but fine.

Was it referring to me?

I feel fine, aside from the shock of learning about the nightingale's song.

Then... Spain?

The thought made me shiver. He did come home with more injuries than usual, but that was besides the point. I mean, if Spain dies, what will Austria do? Surely he'll try to bring me to his house and I can't have that. Italy always complains about the awful cooking over there and how he actually cleans the place.

After thoroughly going over the pros and cons in my mind, I determined it would be in my best interest that Spain should live. Humph, what a pathetic boss, needing _me_ of all people to protect him.

'Romanooooo...!' I heard him call down the hallway.

Quickly straightening myself out by brushing the dust off my apron and butt, I placed the old book about superstitions back on the disorganized bookshelf before Spain had a chance to enter. If he knew that I heard the nightingale's song, he might get melancholic and a depressed Spain just scares everyone.

'Romano, are you in my study again? It's great to see that you have taken an interest in books but you shouldn't run off without-'

'I know,' I cut in, before wrapping my arms as best I possibly could around him. I couldn't care less about my table manners. Right now I had a job to do.

Still hugging Spain, I began, 'I'm glad you're home...'

Oddly enough, Spain pondered my comment before putting his hand on my forehead. 'Are you feeling alright?'

'I'm fine!' I insisted now clenching the sleeve of his white blouse. 'I just wanted to ask you, when are you leaving again?'

'Kicking me out of the house already? That sure was fast.' Spain chuckled.

'No...I just-'

'It's ok, I know how you feel, Romano and you don't have to worry, I promise.' He gave me a big grin. He obvious was taking my behaviour the wrong way.

'I'll be back before you know it.'

'Before I know it...?'

'Yes! I leave in 2 days but I'll return faster than you can say "The land where the sun never sets".

'Y-you can't! That's too soon!' I still didn't know how long before this whole "foreshadowing of death" kicked in and stupid Spain is clearly safer at home.

'I don't like it either Roma, but I have to,' he gave me his signature idiotic grin but I heard the seriousness in his tone. Am I really that powerless...?

'Now~ Let's go eat! I'm starving' he crooned, changing the subject and mood of our conversation. I let go of his blouse, allowing him to turn around and make his carefree way back to the kitchen where a meal awaited both of us.

Despite losing my appetite, I shoved the food down my throat so Spain wouldn't get suspicious of anything. However, Spain was relatively quiet during breakfast but I hadn't time to worry about that because I needed to plan my course of action.

After mentally going through countless possible counterattack plans, I drew the conclusion that Spain is just too big of an idiotic moron to be left on his own. Thus the only way to protect him from whatever dooms the nightingale was warning me about was to be with him at all possible times. As torturous as it may sound, it had to be done or else I faced being dragged to Austria's house in the event of Spain's death or sudden illness.

I nodded to myself as a way to affirm my plan as Spain took away my polished off plate and put in the sink with the rest of the dirty dishes.

'I'll wash the dishes!' I almost shouted when I realized the hazards that came with household chores. I'm not fond of doing work but if it'll help keep Spain alive and me out of Austria's house, it had to be done.

'Really? You want to help me? That's wonderful Romano~' he sang as he began to roll up his sleeves. I pushed a small box beside him and used it as footstool to reach a decent height.

'I can do it by myself' I insisted, looking at Spain; eyes filled with determination. I've never really washed many dishes before but it couldn't possibly be _that _hard. Could it?

'If you're that persistent...' he trailed off as he backed away. He beamed a smile at me to which I responded by sticking my tongue out at him before swiftly turning back to cluttered mess of dishes.

I could hear the Spaniard chuckling behind my back.

'Bastard.' I muttered under my breath as my stare continued to burn a hole in the heap of eating receptacles. My brain drew a blank when I tried contemplating on how to go about cleaning everything.

Sneaking a small peek behind me, I saw Spain had made his way to the doorway of the kitchen. When he noticed my glare he gave me a pleased look before beginning to speak.

'If you're taking care of the dishes, I'll head out to the tomato fields.'

I froze.

The tomato fields are outside. Outside is dangerous. Meaning that by being outside Spain will be exposed to more danger. Which ultimately I can't protect him from it if I'm inside. Inside where it's safer.

I quickly looked back at the collection of icky dishes in the sink. Dishes can wait. I had a job to do. In spite of that, when I turned back to face the Spaniard in desperation to convince him to do otherwise; he was already gone.

That asshole.

I promptly hopped off my box footstool and made my dash toward the tomato fields.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time I had gotten to the tomato fields, I was already out of breath. I paused a moment, gazing at the enormous assortment of tomato vines and plants growing in lush greenery before me. Spain stood out like a sore thumb amidst the blanket of green leaves, polka dotted with red tomatoes. Breath ultimately caught, I only got a step forward before I halted in my tracks.

What was I going to say?

Telling him everything clearly wasn't an option and if I act too suspicious he might eventually begin asking questions which would be hard on his small, idiotic brain so I deem it best not to go down that road. What to do... I pondered the thought a moment.

The only idea my feeble mind could come up with required some suffering on my part, but sacrifices have to be made. Anything to avoid Spain's death and keep me out of Austria's house.

I began sprinting down toward the slender Spanish man with all my might. I called his name as I ran to get his attention to make sure my performance would not be for nothing.

'Spaiiiiiinnnn!' I hollered, successfully getting him to turn from his work and wave at me.

'Hey Romanooo!' He called back. Idiot, watch me as I-

_humfp_

Left foot tripping over my right, I came tumbling down; landing face first in the mucky soil. That fucking hurt. I could hear the concerned Spaniard rushing to my aid, so I promptly sat up to assess my injuries.

Damn it, I wasn't even bleeding. Perhaps adding some waterworks would better help me accomplish my goal. And so, I started sobbing which wasn't hard to do since my knees really did hurt a lot.

'Romano, are you ok?' Spain asked as he dropped to his knees beside me. Naturally, I shook my head and rubbed my teary eyes to sell my performance all the more.

He sounded rather concerned about my minor injuries saying, 'don't cry Romano, I'll take you inside and we'll get you all cleaned up, ok?'

I tried to withhold my smirk. My plan was successful but I wasn't done yet, of course. I still had 2 more days before Spain departed and this small victory hadn't won me the war.

I casually nodded my head answering, 'ok'. Spain then gently took me in his arms and carried me happily all the way back to his manor.

* * *

**_AN:_**_ I apologize that this chapter is so short, I promise the next one shall be longer. _


	4. Chapter 4

The following two days of me trying to watch over my Spanish 'boss' were horrible, terrible and almost fatal to my well-being. Keeping that moron out of harm's way was about as easy as invading Russia in the winter. It's fucking suicide. Hell, I'd rather take military advice from France.

I couldn't take this torture for much longer seeing as I was deficient of any stamina, which may or may not be indirectly linked to my lack of desire for doing any type of work. But regardless of how fatigued my body became, it always came as a relief to me see that stupid, idiotic smile of that bastard's. I mean, if he didn't smile he might as well be dead and if he's dead that means I get hauled to Austria's house. So I'll keep that loser smiling for as long as I need to.

My mind continued going adrift before Spain brought me back to reality.

'Romano, is everything alright? Your head seems to be in the clouds, which isn't normal for my little Roma.'

I sighed, looking up to see his puppy dog-like face. 'Stop asking me that bastard. As I've stated before,' I paused as I yawned, 'I am one hundred percent fine now shut up.'

He pouted, 'But Roma, it's Boss' last day before he leaves again to go fight that big and scary Mr. Eyebrows. I even worked extra hard to cook our meal. Please be nicer to Boss, Romano~'

I scuffed as I played with grub on my plate. I'm just tired is all, but of course that Spaniard can't see that. He never does. And I doubt he ever will.

As the tense mood at the dinner table thickened, I could tell Spain was trying to joke as a way to lighten the atmosphere but his comment still caused me to jolt.

'If you're not nicer to Boss, Boss might die of loneliness~ haha"

My entire body stiffened. I looked at him blankly; appalled.

'You jerk...' were the words that trailed out of my mouth. He only gave me a clueless look in response.

Scowling, I pushed the unfinished meal away from me, hopped out of the wooden chair and shouted, 'I hope you die you bastard because I hate you!', all before making an escape for my room.

I couldn't care less about the fool calling my name from down the hall. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could, doing my best to hold back my frustrated tears. Diving into my bedsheet covers, I did the best I could to wrap myself with them so that none of me could be seen.

As the sound of the footsteps approaching my room from the corridor increased, I slowly peeked out from beyond the covers.

Just as I expected, Spain stood in the doorway; arms crossed over his chest and a melancholic express upon his face.

'Roma-,' he started before I interrupted him.

'Go away.'

'But Romano I-'

'I said "go away".'

'I know I heard you.'

'Then why don't you leave?'

'Because I'm the Boss and you're my Henchman. When Boss' Henchman is upset, sad or whatever, it's Boss' job to find out what's wrong and cheer him up.' He boldly stated as he made his way over to my bed and sat on the edge. He even gave me that signature smile of his as a way to wrap up his argument.

Stubborn as I am, I held my ground, turning my body over to face away from Spain and pulling the sheets back over my head.

'I don't need your "cheering up", so go away.' I insisted. Regardless of the emotional blockade I had established against Spain, he still pulled the covers from over my head and laid down beside me. What's he trying to prove?

I'm done playing his stupid game. I forcibly made my body roll over to face the Spaniard intruding on my bed, making sure my outstretched hand smacked him in between his eyebrows.

'Ow, Roma what was that for?' he solemnly asked, my hand still pressing up against his face.

'That's what you get for not leaving me alone you creep!' I declared.

Spain let out a small sigh as he grabbed my hand and moved it from his face to his chest.

'I won't ever leave you alone, Romano.' He closed his eyes; pausing, '...do you feel my heartbeat, Roma? It beats because I have you here with me Romano. When you're sad, I am sad. When you are happy, I am happy. When you cry, I cry. I love you, Romano, you know that. Please tell me, what's been eating at you lately?'

'...Creepy bastard' I started to sob as I quickly retracted my hand back to me. How the hell did he expect me to retort that? I instinctively attempted to dry my tears with my hands but to avail. I probably only looked like an idiot in doing so.

The Spaniard casually encircled his arms around me; hugging me so close to him, I could not only feel his heartbeat but hear it through his chest. Lightly kissing my hot forehead, he asked in a motherly-tone I've never heard before;

'Tell me everything that bothers you Romano.'

And I did. After I ceased my ugly sobbing. And he listened to me. Spain listened to me and my story about the nightingale wholeheartedly. I told him about what I heard at Austria's house. Why I fell asleep in his study. Why I suddenly took an interest in helping around the house. Why I'd been so clingy out of nowhere. And I told him I was only trying to protect him. He didn't ask me any stupid questions, or make any unneeded facial expressions. He just laid there next to me, holding me, comforting me and hearing everything I had to say. This was all something I never thought him capable of.

Despite the contents of my tale, this was presumably the most at ease feeling I've ever experienced.

After my storytelling was over, I paused a moment to let him absorb all the information I just regurgitated. About a minute later, Spain finally spoke.

'So that's why you got upset at dinner. Because of my comment about my death being indirectly linked to Roma?'

I nodded gingerly and wiped my red, puffy eyes. I guess he's not that stupid.

He smiled earnestly. 'I'm sorry Romano. I truly am. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?'

He chuckled as I replied, 'maybe.'

'Well in that case, would it be ok if I slept with you tonight?'

'Do whatever you want bastard,' I puffed, 'just don't go dying on me. Austria's food is awful.'

He squeezed me tight.

'I won't. I promise.'

* * *

_**AN:**__ There is still one more chapter, it isn't the end just yet._


End file.
